


The Start of a Beautiful Friendship

by Lestradesexwife



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lestradesexwife/pseuds/Lestradesexwife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John goes to a bath house, the steam room is good for his shoulder... honestly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Start of a Beautiful Friendship

****

The steam room is large, mostly empty on a Wednesday afternoon. John chooses a spot on the cedar bench against the wall. John shifts, letting the warmth of the steam fill him. His shoulder has been acting up, in the unseasonable cold and damp. The warm steam covers him like a heavy blanket. He’s loose and relaxed, rests his elbows against the next step up and lets his head drop back, eyes sliding closed in the overwhelming softness of the room.

****

Even relaxed and warm he can’t put his weight on his shoulder like this for long. His hand starts to tingle and he sighs, sitting up and rolling his shoulder; digs the fingers of his right hand into the scar tissue on the back of his shoulder. It hurts, he’s meant to be doing physio exercises for it, meant to be stretching and pushing himself. He knows that it will probably hurt for the rest of his life, the dull ache in the weather, the vaguely terrifying popping sounds that come sometimes when he lifts something heavy. He resolves at least twice a week to get back into his physio routine, now that he doesn’t need the cane anymore he could even start running again. The Park being so close and all.

****

Six months back in London, and chasing after Sherlock makes a run around the Park seem… impossibly dull. Time at the gym, maybe he could find a martial arts class, something that would be useful and interesting. Something drop in, that he can do in the spaces between cases, maybe he can even convince Sherlock to come along.

****

He’s lost in planning, in the near-pleasure of the pain in his shoulder. He registers the sound of the door opening, the low rumble of conversation but he doesn’t bother to look up as they move across the room and settle in the opposite corner.

****

He sighs and considers spreading out the larger towel he brought in with him and laying himself out. He thinks he could sleep, the half dark and nearly oppressive warmth of the room soothing him far more than he thought it would.

****

It is an embarrassingly long time before he registers the change in the tone of conversation across the room. Laughter and low comments have morphed into groans and slaps of flesh on flesh.

****

John’s seen enough porn to know what to expect before he looks up. Hell, he was in the army, he’s seen enough of this in real life to know what to expect. He might not _strictly speaking_ be gay, but there is something to be said for the sight of a well-muscled arse, pumping away… the fact that he was pumping into another bloke, well John isn’t going to complain. Given the choice John prefers his sexual encounters to be of the feminine variety, and with a level of emotional attachment that… well no, honestly he had been attached to the men in the army, he misses the camaraderie and it is just as intense…

****

John’s brain derails, and he makes no effort to hide the way he palms himself over the towel, as the two men shift positions and John’s treated to a full frontal view of the bottom, writhing in his partner’s lap. They are both fit, if average looking, but the thing that kicks John in the gut and has him fisting his cock through the towel is the look on the bottom’s face. He’s completely blissed out, the soft groans dropping from his lips with every roll of the top’s hips send sparks through John’s blood.

****

Fuck, he wants to feel that way, wants to make someone else feel that way. He can’t exactly blame Sherlock for running off Sarah, that had more to do with the circus. And there hasn’t really been time to find anyone else. He hasn’t had a proper relationship in years, which isn’t to say he’s been lacking…

****

The door swings open again and John nearly panics, the man that walks in is a solid wall of muscle, the towel wrapped around his waist tied in a knot that exposes a sharp V of his thigh and the barest hint of a dark curling hair. John’s mouth goes dry as the other man scans the room. His eyes catch first on the pair opposite John and then drift over to John.

****

Something alters in the larger man’s stance and he approaches John slowly. “Hi,” he smiles and John is completely disarmed by the gap in the other man’s teeth, his smile makes him look… young and just a little vunerable… well as vulnerable as someone six foot four and _big_ , John’s mind helpfully supplies, can. “Hi, I’m… I’m Trevor. Can I join you? You’ve got the best view in the house.” Trevor nods at the pair across the room.

****

“I… I wasn’t looking.” John clears his throat., wondering what would happen if he just bolted from the room. “I mean, I’m not here to…” John can feel the heat in his skin, ridiculous that it has nothing to do with the steam.

****

Trevor’s smile never fades. “Okay. But seriously, can I sit here… only they look like they could pop off any…” Trevor cranes his neck to watch as a particularly loud groan comes from the pair opposite them.

****

John leans sideways to look as well and before he knows it Trevor is sitting a careful distance away, carefully ignoring John in favour of the rapidly escalating display opposite.

****

The top has wrapped his hand around his partner’s cock and is fisting him in time with his thrusts. Trevor lets out a small noise, barely audible over the sounds coming from the other pair.

****

“Fuck yeah, god… so tight… god coming in you… fuck.” The sights and sounds of their mutual orgasm kick John’s heart into overdrive, he’s hard under the towel but he’s conscious of how close Trevor is to him.

****

John fidgets as the pair of exhibitionists clean up and leave the steam room, laughing and kissing as they head for the showers. He should leave, he’s hard as a rock and a nice wank in the shower sounds like an excellent plan. “Well… it was nice…”

****

“I could suck you off.”

****

“Sorry?”

****

Trevor blushes at that and John couldn’t quite wrap his brain around what is happening.

****

“I mean, if you wanted. I’d like to. Suck you. You don’t have to…” Trevor is looking down at his hands, avoiding looking at John. “I mean, I can if you want.”

****

“I don’t have a condom.” This is John’s only fall back, only an idiot turns down a blow job. He’d be a bigger fool to accept anonymous sex without protection.

****

Trevor slips his fingers under the edge of his towel and removes a shiny gold wrapper. Held there against any kind of common sense or basic physics solely on the tightness of the towel. He sets it down on the bench between them and continues to stare at the floor.

****

“What about you?” John doesn’t want to be inconsiderate.

****

“I can take care of myself. It’s fine. People expect me to want to… but I’d rather… Please.”

****

“Fuck.” John had expected his interest to wane, but right now he is imagining what Trevor’s mouth would look like wrapped around his cock. Six months is long enough and John is only human. “Yeah, fuck… alright.”

****

Trevor slides across the bench towards John, and then down onto the floor between John’s knees. There is nothing particularly elegant about his movements, but he’s not clumsy. His hand closes over John’s knee and the reality of it comes crashing down on John. He’s about to get a blow job from a stranger in a bathhouse, and he’s so hard he thinks his teeth are aching.

****

Trevor’s hands run over the exposed skin of his legs, stroking down until he reaches John’s feet. He lifts slightly and pulls John’s legs apart, until they press tight against Trevor’s sides. His hands roam back up John’s legs, under the towel and lifting up until the cloth pulls open and John’s cock bobs free. John lets his head fall back as Trevor’s fingers ghost over his cock. He pulls gently, just enough pressure that John can feel the calluses on his hands.

****

“Jesus. That’s good.”

****

Trevor’s beard scratches at the sensitive skin of John’s inner thigh. John groans at the slight nip of teeth, hands flying, involuntarily, to Trevor’s head. “Sorry.” John pulls away, resolving to tuck his hands under his arse and let Trevor do whatever he likes.

****

“No. It’s fine, really… I don’t mind.” He reaches and catches John’s wrist, pulling his hand back to his head and John can’t help but dig his fingers in. “Fuck, yes, please.” The words are rough, demanding even as he presses his mouth to John’s stomach, pecking kisses against John’s skin. “Please. As hard as you like, I want you to...”

****

It is a good thing Trevor has stopped touching John, fingers blindly searching for the condom, because John feels like he is already on the edge. Even kneeling on the floor Trevor is massive, and he’s pushing against John’s hand, begging to be controlled. “Fuck, you want to suck my cock.”

****

“Yeah, yeah I do. Please.”

****

John takes the condom from Trevor’s fingers, uses his teeth to open the wrapper and rolls it down over this cock, thankful Trevor misjudged his dominant hand and he doesn’t have to take his hand from the back of Trevor’s head. John’s fingers tighten against Trevor’s scalp, hair too short to get a proper grip on, he feels like he might leave bruises. John’s skin is hot and prickling in the steam, sweat gathering wherever their skin is pressed together and John wants more.

****

Trevor is kneeling, waiting, eyes fixed on John’s face.

****

“Slow, make it last.” John pulls his cock away from his body, holding it for Trevor’s mouth.

****

He forces himself to watch the gentle touches of tongue over his cock, the fleeting contact that isn’t enough but exactly what he asked for.

****

Trevor moans as the head of John’s cock slides into his mouth. It is tempting, it would be so easy for John to just lean back against the benches and let Trevor do all the work. Trevor is already working, taking long slow pulls on John’s cock, pressing his lips tight and rocking gently everytime he bottoms out. John’s hands are guiding, but not really pushing and the vague niggle of guilt he feels is backwards. He should feel guilty for wanting to push forward, for wanting to tangle his fingers in Trevor’s hair and pull him down until he is choking, he shouldn’t feel guilt for his gentleness.

 

The movement of Trevor’s arm against John’s shin tells him everything he needs to know. “You like this.”  John times it just so… letting Trevor sink down as far as he seems comfortable before tightening his grip and pulling him down the last fraction of an inch. Trevor’s breathing comes in sharp desperate spurts through his nose. Trevor whines around John’s cock and pushes closer, his shoulders forcing John’s knees apart.

****

John pulls him back, sparks running over his skin as he watches Trevor resist the pull, his hair is short and John can see the strain in the strands as he pulls Trevor back. “Shush, good boy… fuck your mouth feels good. Just… just tell me you want it… I want to hear you say it.”

****

Trevor tilts his head, dropping his eyes and twisting slightly in John’s grasp. “ _Fuck, please… god I want. please I want you to make me_ ,” he whispers, and if it wasn’t for the thick silence in the room John wouldn’t be able to hear him at all.

****

John slides forward on his towel, shifting his grip so that he can guide his cock back between Trevor’s lips. “That’s a good boy.”

****

John could come just from the small sounds Trevor makes as John presses against the back of his throat. “Good… good. Let me fuck you. God you feel good.” John pushes forward until Trevor has to scooch back on his knees, but John gets his feet on the floor and just the cheeks of his arse on the bench and he has perfect leverage to thrust into Trevor’s mouth. He matches the thrusts of his hips to the pull of his fingers and the motion of Trevor’s elbow against his shin.

****

“Good boy, _good boy_. Fuck.” John slows, giving Trevor two long deep thrusts. “Yeah, look at you, gonna come with my cock in your mouth aren’t you?” The moan that answers him makes John’s knees weak, and the edge that he was heading towards is suddenly close. “Fuck… suck me… gonna come in your mouth. Fuck.”

****

John’s hips stutter and both of his hands tighten on the back of Trevor’s head, holding him close until the world goes white and John’s toes curl. Organized movement becomes scattered, drawn out by the vibration in Trevor’s throat.

****

John inhales sharply and shakes his head, shoulders shaking with another wave of pleasure running down his back and out into Trevor’s mouth. John collapses back onto the bench, holding Trevor’s head close and working it slowly along the length of his cock. “Good… fuck yeah you are _good_. C’mon, come for me now. I wanna feel you come with my cock in you.”

****

Trevor’s mouth goes slack around John’s cock and he groans, his whole body heaving with the rhythm of his hand on his cock. John strokes his hair and sighs, reaches down to catch Trevor’s nipple between his fingers. “C’mon baby, suck me.” His fingers catch on Trevor’s nipple and he pulls, twisting gently. “Thank you for letting me come in your mouth… I love being inside, it feels so good to fill someone else up.” Trevor groans and John smiles. “Do you like to be fucked, Trevor? Would you like me to fill you up?”

****

The desperate needy noises and not-quite-suckling almost bring John off again, something in the region of his heart contracts in pleasure as Trevor goes still and then lets John’s cock fall from his lips, the deep low growl of fulfillment bringing blood back into John’s cock.

****

Trevor’s head falls to the side, resting on John’s thigh. John tilts himself forward to look through the spaces in between their bodies at the last slow gentle pulls on Trevor’s cock. “Good boy.” John strokes Trevor’s hair and down the back of his neck, gripping tight around his nape before working his fingers into the _frankly terrifying_ muscles of his shoulders.

****

“I would.”

****

John digs his fingers into a tight spot on Trevor’s neck. “You would what?”

****

Trevor buries his face in the flesh of John’s thigh and John’s fingers return to his nape, squeezing gently. “Ah. I see. Come on, I’ll take care of you.” He pulls slightly on Trevor’s nape, letting his fingers slide over smooth skin. “We should shower first though.”

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the title... I rather think this is the end.


End file.
